


The Thief and The Princess

by serenbach



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bedtime Stories, F/M, Misunderstandings, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5443511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenbach/pseuds/serenbach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, there was a clever thief and a fearsome princess. </p><p>Ori heard stories about them all through his childhood.</p><p>It wasn't until Erebor was reclaimed that he realised that the stories may have been truer than he'd thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elsajeni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsajeni/gifts).



Once upon a time, there was a thief.

 

He wasn't always a thief of course. He was a jeweller by Craft, his nimble fingers able to make elegant, delicate pieces that caught the eye, and if life were fair, fetched a small fortune, more than enough for the thief's family to life a more than comfortable life. 

 

But life wasn't fair, as the thief well knew. For all his talent, the thief was lowborn, he had no friends or connections that could support his Craft, and his master took his best pieces for himself, with vague promises that were never meant to be fulfilled, that the next thing he made would be sold under his own name, fetching a fair price for him.

 

But the thief knew his master too well to believe his promises, and he still had brothers to feed.

 

So the thief turned his nimble fingers and his clever eyes to stealing, in order to make life just that little bit fairer.

 

The first place that the thief stole from was his (former) master, a dwarf who would never be able to make anything from the unworked gold and uncut gemstones that he flinched from his stores. When his master turned up at his house, enraged, the thief threatened to reveal that he was the one that made his most famous works.

 

That, combined with his elder brother’s fearsome strength, made his useless master slink away. But despite his brother’s pleas, and then his anger when the thief didn’t listen, he did not stop stealing.

 

Because life was unfair, and hard, and stealing was  _ easy,  _ because most people were easy to fool.

 

The thief got better and better at stealing, until the day that his new friends that his brother hated challenged him to steal from the royal residences.

 

That was the first time he met the princess.

 

\----

 

“What did the princess look like?” Ori asked, sitting up in bed, his eyes wide and interested and not tired at all. His brother was really good at telling stories.

 

Nori smiled at his little brother as as he answered. “She had hair like melted gold and a spine made of steel,” he said, his voice warm and amused as he spoke.

 

Ori beamed at his brother’s description. “What happened then?”

 

\---

 

The thief made his way into the royal residence -  just walking like he belonged, not sneaking or creeping, that’s how thieves get caught - slightly appalled at how easy it was.  

 

The thief had slipped into room after room, intent on stealing jewellery marked with the Durin crest, just to prove that he had, only to find that the line of Durin had little jewellery, or at least little jewellery kept in their rooms.

 

The thief sighed, turning to leave, almost walking directly into the blade of the dwarrowdam standing behind him with a ferocious scowl.

 

The thief knew she was the princess, not just because he had heard her described before, but from the way she carried herself, proud and sure.   

 

“What are you doing in my rooms?” she demanded, blade held unwavering inches away from his chest.

 

“I came to give you this,” the thief replied, heart pounding for reasons other than fear. He held out a brooch, a ring of twisted dwarven knotwork.

 

She scowled, and refused to take it. The thief bowed, and placed it on the table with a small bow.

 

“A gift,” the thief declared. “From a loyal subject.”

 

“Get out,” she said. “Before I call the guard.”

 

He winked at her and left, aware that she had followed him out to make sure that he was actually leaving. 

 

\---

 

“Did she call the guard,” Ori asked, leaning forward eagerly, wanting to know the end of the story.

 

His brother shook his head, still grinning.

 

“Do you think the thief will see the princess again?” Ori wondered hopefully.

 

“Who knows,” Nori said, standing up and ruffling his hair. “Get some sleep, brother.”

 

\---

 

There  _ were _ other stories Nori told about about the thief and the princess. Like the time they thief met the princess again, in an inn that a princess should really not be frequenting. He saved her from muggers, she saved him from the guards.

 

Or when they met again when he heard rumours that there were thieves - real thieves, nasty thieves - waiting to attack her, and she searched for him later to thank him. 

 

Or how they met again, by chance, the thief and the princess, in the market, and he followed her at her nod of permission, and they spoke for hours, before he was forced to leave.

 

\---

 

“Can you tell me another story about the thief and the princess?” Ori asked eagerly. He hadn’t seen his brother for a while, and the stories that Nori told him were his favourite.

 

Nori sighed. “The princess kissed the thief, and then he never saw her again.”

 

Ori blinked. “That can’t be how the story ends!” he protested. “Why didn’t the thief find the princess?” 

 

Nori shrugged, looking down. “All stories end sometime, Ori. That’s just how it goes.”

 

“It’s just not a good ending,” Ori complained, and Nori started smiling again. 

 

“Whatever you say, little scribe. Why don’t I tell you about this miner I met in the pub - he had some great stories of his own.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ori woke when Nori rose from his bedside in the healer’s wing, the most rebuilt area of Erebor. His brother had been telling him stories like he used to when he was a child, distracting him from the still-sore wound his his thigh, and the missing fingers on his left hand, while Dori rested for the first time in days, until he fell asleep.

(He could write with both hands, of course, but it was still hard for a scribe to lose fingers.)

It had been a couple of months since the battle, and everyone but the most seriously injured, like the princes, had already been released by Oin or his assistants. Ori was only back on bed rest since the healing stumps of his fingers had become infected, and Oin wanted to keep an eye on them.

His brothers had fretted about it, Nori as much as Dori, although he would deny it, and neither of them had left his side while he’d been in there, which he was grateful for, and also why he was surprised that Nori had sidled away.

But it was when a blond, beautiful dwarrowdam entered the infirmary, heading straight towards the young princes that Ori started to understand. He closed his eyes and tried not listen to their reunion, his heart pounding, wondering where Nori had got to. 

The blond dwarrowdam, Princess Dis, who Ori strongly suspected had been the star of several of his bedside stories, and that he had never realised had been real, kissed her sons on the cheeks and headed out of the room, presumably in search of her brother.

He settled down, trying to sleep again, mentally compiling a list of questions to ask his brother when he returned, when he heard his brother’s voice.

“Hello, princess,” he head Nori drawl from behind the not-quite closed door. His voice was amused, to those who didn’t know him.

Ori, however, could hear the bitterness in his tone. 

“You,” she replied, her voice cold. “I did not realise you were part of my brother’s company.”

“I had heard you were due to arrive,” Nori said, the anger more clear in his voice. “At least there are some meetings you can keep.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dis dimanded. “I waited for you. I waited and waited, until I recieved your note…”

“What note?” Nori asked and that time the surprise in his voice was genuine.

“It’s just not meant to be,” Dis spat, as if she were quoting something from memory. “Don’t look for me, you won’t find me.”

“Dis,” Nori interrupted, but she was only just getting started, and her voice got louder with anger.

“You _abandoned_ me! Even after I told you of my husband’s death, and how it hurt me, you _left_ me!” 

“Dis, I didn’t leave you that note - I couldn’t have done.” Nori’s voice was earnest. “I couldn’t have done. Neither me or Dori knew how to write until my little brother finished his scribe training and taught us.”

“Oh,” Dis said, her voice blank with surprise. 

“I just thought,” and Ori could almost see his brother’s shrug. “That you’d thought better of being with a dwarf who was both a thief and a bastard.”

“I never thought that,” she replied, and there was silence for a long time. Ori became aware of Fili and Kili, as awake as him, staring at the door with avid interest.

“Well, I’ll be around,” Nori said, sounding tentative and unsure, most unlike himself. “Erebor, you know. New start and all that. If you want to talk, or something.”

“I’d like that,” Dis said, her voice almost as soft as it had been when speaking to her sons. “And Nori-” that time her voice was louder, as if Nori was walking away, “I still have your brooch.”

Ori grinned into his pillow, ignoring Fili and Kili’s questions for a moment.

That was a _good_ ending for a story.

**Author's Note:**

> Dis had always been blond in my headcanon. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


End file.
